Sparks
by d i n o b o t
Summary: The story of Ash Ketchum's journey through life discovering true love - the strong anticipation, the overwhelming obstacles and the constant struggle to attain it. Yes, love is that powerful. Pokeshipping.


**disclaimer** **- **this is a small one-shot narrative AAML fic, based loosely (very loosely) on the song _Sparks_ by _Coldplay_ from their debut record _Parachutes_. It is slightly recommended you play the song in the background while you read this. It puts you in the frame of mind of the author, artist, and characters. Also, the man in Delia's story who eventually becomes her husband isn't Professor Oak; although it seems I might be leaning that way. On with the show!

sparks  
by – dinobot

--

It happened every night. After Ash washed his small childish face in warm water and ninety-nine cent drugstore soap; after he slipped his small stubby legs into his turquoise pokemon pajamas; after his mother versed him stories of great pokemon battles; after she would delicately kiss him on his forehead leaving an imprint of violet flush lipstick on his sweaty brow; Ash's mother would recall her and Ash's father's first encounter.

It was indeed a memorial one. Ash's mom told it from her distinct memory and caring heart. She would always ask him, "Ready for your dad and mine's first kiss?" already knowing the answer. Little Ash would smile and nod, nestling his head on his small pillow. She returned the smile and began her fabled tale.

It was a perfect account, embellished of course at some parts and completely changed for grace at others. They both secretly knew this, but neither of them cared. Ash's boyish smile and glistening eyes would beam when he heard his favorite parts, often lip-syncing them word for reversed word as she told it. His mother smiled to his endearing habit and continued with the story.

It was at Delia's small flower shop, located in a small eloquent suburb of Pallet town. It was the humblest of all parts of the world, since Pallet was often regarded as a modest small community. It was the happiest of places, the pidgys would intentionally stop chirping at dawn just so you would spend a few more moments in your perfect dreams just long enough to ease the transition and wake to another. The butterfree would sing and twirl in small clusters to hear you laugh as you walk along the structured dusty path. The wild mareep would travel in small herds from house to house happily grazing the grass of its neighbors fulfilling a service while having something to eat, and it was always gratefully appreciated on both ends. At night the small energetic pichu would play together dancing along the streets creating just enough light for couples to walk side by side in the romantic crisp evenings. It was safe to say humans and pokemon lived in perfect harmony.

Delia was busy trimming her lovely plants, carefree as she always did at the beginning of each workday. Business bloomed during the spring and summer months like it always did, and in the same manor waned in the dying autumn and ironic winter. Business moseyed along, neither tremendously profitable nor completely leveling but kept the same quaint leisurely trend. The pleasure of owning a business was not for materialistic or extrinsic pursuit, but of personal happiness and merit.

A certain young man would stroll through the glass door of her shop; the door triggered a small jingle announcing his presence. He was a tall handsome man, always dressed in a respectful demeanor no matter the occasion. He was a perfect gentleman, well kept and clean. He adorned a dark navy blue suit fitting him perfectly. His square shoes were black and always shined; Delia would often wonder how they were able to keep a brilliant shine traveling on the dirt path to get to her small shop. His tie was a perfect upside down triangle, with the tail falling neatly between his shirt and suit jacket. He was a respectful man, always saying 'excuse you' after an individual would sneeze, and 'thank you' in appreciation for even the most minute deed shown to him.

He walked into the store everyday at noon, taking a refreshing whiff of the sweet flowery aromas as if every time the scent of the shop had grown more pleasurable with time. Every day at noon he had a lunch break from his job. He was a modest pokemon research assistant, paid minimum wage, no pension or health benefits. He did it for the satisfaction, for the gratification of helping pokemon and his fellow man know one another better. What else would you expect from a perfect gentlemen?

Delia's heart practically jumped out of her chest every time the jingle would sound at noon. She resembled a brilliant vermillion, and as always hide her appearance until her face returned to its original color behind her bed of rose petals. The man noticed every time, smirked and cheerily walked up to her; his dress shoes clicking against the wooden floor. They engaged in small talk for five to ten minutes before he asked for a long single dethroned red rose. She laughed softly, for he always would order the same thing every single day. It was custom in her life, like the sun rising in the morning and setting in the dusk. She searched her flower bed for the perfect one (which was not difficult since all of them resembled their potential beauty), delicately clipped it off and gave it to the man. He gratefully accepted it and handed her a bill, always more than the usual cost of one single long dethroned red rose. She did not need to count the change (he always had the same bills wrapped nicely in his pant pocket), but as always he refused to accept the change. A small game of generosity was discreetly played, until she would finally admit playful defeat and put the change back into her pocket. He was a caring man, she would always conclude.

When asked one bold day who the roses were for he nonchalantly smiled and answered her while exiting the flower shop. "The most beautiful girl in the world," he announced in the warm sunlight. "The most beautiful girl in the whole wide world!" he said again. Delia's heart broke a little. He had obviously been loyally craving the attention of some lucky younger and much more beautiful woman. A small tear rolled off her cheek and watered the plants. She suppressed such negative emotions, for they had no such place in the happy town of Pallet.

The following day she reluctantly blushed the next time she heard the jingle. He walked in, wearing his clean unstained dark suit as always, but this time carrying an almost ridiculous amount of long red dethroned roses. As Delia would tell it, he had a few carts to carry all the roses he had with him. She looked at him bewilderedly, and then scared. Was he not satisfied with his purchases? Hardly. He walked calmly to her, and handed her one of the long dethroned red roses. It was not until later she was told it was the first rose he had ever purchased from her; and every single rose he had bought from her each day afterward he cared for preciously in a clear water vase, preserving all the flowers in their optimal beauty.

"I thought these were for the most beautiful girl in the world?" she asked. He fixed his tie and smiled lovingly at her. "Of course," he crookedly smiled, "You are." He had poured his whole heart to her in just a few simple words. Those words tasted infinitely sweeter coming from the man she loved.

The roses represented all the days he loved her. He did not care for roses before then. Its was not as if he would trample one growing lonely on the dusty road, but he made his due effort to evade them since they reminded him of romance, passion and love. Love was something note worthily vacant from his existence. But when he set his eyes on Delia he empowered much energy lovely maintaining the roses. Delia and roses where all that was caught up into his mind, often singing lightly in perfect key his own song involving Delia and roses in some form. He idly sang the tune absentmindedly giving the squirtles charmander food and charmanders squirtle food. The pokemon laughed and switched dishes for the day, for he was completely in love. He loved roses, and more importantly he loved her.

She jumped to her feet and hugged him, arms neatly wrapped around his sturdy body as the two embraced each other. The rose he had offered her fell to the floor not rejected but replaced by the prize of each other's hearts.

It was then Delia would describe the kiss between them: strong, flush, long and _perfect_. Many adjectives can describe such a wonderful thing as a kiss, but such overkill of words would ruin what a kiss essentially is: a gesture of affection and love; and as Delia would described it, "The greatest feeling in the world" when kissing the person of your dreams. Ash only could remotely imagine such a feeling through his small innocent schema. Such a thing as a kiss would have to be reserved for maturity and time.

"Greatest feeling in the world? Even better then pokemon shaped fudge?" Ash asked after his mother's claim. Delia laughed softly to his innocent question and agreed with him. The kiss as she described it lasted a few wonderful seconds with sparks flying in every direction.

'Sparks,' Ash's mother would say is the key.

She would go on and on about sparks, so much so that Ash would sometimes fall asleep to Delia's ramblings, for he would not experience something as profound as 'love' for several more years. But for the most part, he listened. It is the sign. The sign identifying the one you have just kissed to be your true love, the one you are meant to be with. Delia would tell Ash about the sparks, how they flew from their lips and showered on the ground skipping playfully along their feet. It was all you need to know. The sparks would guarantee love's boundaries to be infinite, limitless and indeed perpetual.

It was then Ash was told not to compensate. Compensation would always be likened to 'failure' and 'defeat.' Why would you be with someone when there's another perfect someone that completes you perfectly?

"Do not compensate, my love," she told Ash. Ash was obviously too young at the time to even know what the word meant. He would softy nod and lift his head up for another kiss. Delia smiled, kissed him on his sweaty brow for the night, and tucked him in his pokemon bed sheets. She would patiently wait for him to fall asleep. It would take Ash longer to fall asleep than other nights, but in either case would sit beside him, stroking his hair as he drifted off into his dreams. Delia would tiptoe out of his room with Ash snoring gently in the dark. She blew him a final kiss until the next morning, flick on his Lanturn shaped night light and softly closed the door. Thus would be the cycle of Ash's childhood nights.

---

Little did Delia Ketchum know the beliefs and habits she told her son every moonlit night had engraved itself into Ash's mind whether he knew it or not. This was not just a mere mannerism a boy would mimic by example from a mother. No, this was a way of thinking; a mindset. Ash did however inherit traits his mother had passed on to him. He would timidly rub the back of his head when he was nervous, or have a marvelous and compelling optimism about life; all attributes with Delia's name on them.

Ash knew other mature concepts in life at a young age: compensation, intimacy and love. Ash knew them all but only abstractly. They would bounce around in his childish brain like caffeinated pin balls briefly before being flushed out with childish thoughts of 'playtime' and pokemon. But these concepts did not die in childhood but rather were subdued until he was old enough to appreciate them.

It was as if Ash's senses were acutely attuned to his surroundings and if any situation he was in would produce the sparks highly acclaimed by his mother. In his eighth year Ash met Gary's sister May. Ash liked May. She had previously been living in Celadon City attending school. As Ash and Gary would play in Gary's living room May would occasionally step out from her room maybe to watch television, read a teen magazine or eat an afternoon snack. But no matter the case, it was never for Ash. He watched cautiously as she slid down the hallway in her clean pink slippers wishing sparks would fly from the static electricity. He would greet her whenever she would walk by, once with a crooked smile, once with a small wave, and even grazing her leg as she trekked by hoping the static electricity she had accumulated from the rug to her slippers would generate sparks. But they didn't. She would leave for school again when the semester would start and out of Ash's childhood, without sparks.

Prior to Ash's tenth birthday sparks were nonexistent in his life. He did not want to engineer sparks and befriend the nearest girl in the surrounding area, generating the fake encounter. His mother's words of compensation would be recalled to his mind every time he would entertain the thought. He wanted the meeting of his true love to be perfect and sincere. Ash was completely determined to experience this episode. However days turned to weeks, weeks into months, so on and so on. Ash grew impatient. His frustration drenched him like an old dish sponge saturated in hot diluted water. It was right before his tenth birthday Ash had given up searching for the sparks and his true love. He resolved to focus mainly on pokemon. Pokemon training and pokemon battling were exceedingly more reliable than a story fading from his heart. Nevertheless, such thoughts were not completely gone.

---

Ash's life could be defined in two parts: prior to his pokemon journey and after; or more accurately a nonexistent spark filled life to one overwhelmed with them. From the morning of his tenth birthday (the day he started his pokemon journey) Ash's life was surrounded by sparks. But these were not the same sparks he would remember hearing about. Ash received a Pikachu for his first pokemon due to his tardiness. He could have received the flame of a Charmander, the bubbles of a Squirtle, or even the vines of a Bulbasaur. Instead, Ash was stuck with the sparks of a Pikachu. The first time Pikachu disobediently would shock him with a high voltage electric attack the boy would indeed see sparks, right before he would fall face first into ground. It was noticeable to Ash sparks were indeed occupying his life now. Pikachu shocked Ash, Processor Oak, his mother, some sparrow, a bike and Team Rocket in a single day; and every single time Pikachu hummed his name and discharged his attack sparks would always fly from his two inch cherry circles from his puffy yellow cheeks.

The first time it happened Ash felt ambivalent. The sparks were obviously not the sign he thought it would be. They were more frequent and seemed mundane every time they would appear without the promises he remembered. They certainly weren't 'special,' 'ordaining,' and definitely not attachable to the love of his life.

He looked around, maybe by some chance some beautiful girl happened to be walking by when the sparks flew from Pikachu's statically discharged cheeks and the two would meet. How joyous the occasion would be! Ash could picture it, hand and hand with his lover traveling the world. The two would train, battle and journey together for many years. After a long impressive pokemon career they both would achieve the prestigious position of pokemon masters together and spend the rest of their retirement in an isolated mountain cottage together.

Instead, Ash found Misty. Or more accurately Misty found Ash.

The meeting of Ash and Misty was a disastrous one. Ash had just begun his pokemon journey that very day, with a disobedient pokemon running from a flock of Sparrow screeching for the two's blood. He found himself at the edge of a waterfall and jumped in, being swept away in the current down the lake water.

At the same time Misty had stopped to fish in a small lake located on the outskirts of Pallet. She had been patiently fishing yielding not a single worthy catch. All she had to show for her efforts were a few undersized Majikarp twitching on the end of her fishing line. She threw them all back of course not because Majikarp were arguably the worst water pokemon to every swim the planet but if you were able to train the poor fish it would eventually evolve into a Gyrados, a pokemon Misty was terrified of.

Misty was alone, pensive and unguided. She had run away from home due to her sister's treatment and decided to earn her respect as a Cerulean Gym Leader and a worthy peer in the eyes of her sisters. But things were starting slowly like they always did for her. Misty had not the faintest clue to where she was heading, or how she was going to survive on her own. Nevertheless, thoughts of helplessness and vanity were subdued by her stubborn exterior and was traveling the surrounding area not aimlessly but in search for a purpose.

She found one. With a firm pull on her line she fished out an ignorant pokemon trainer, who at the time could be likened to a Majikarp. He was rude, rushed and desperate; and he stole her precious bike! Misty tried to follow his trail, but a storm had delayed her efforts. All she wanted was to leave this dreadful place and find her bike. She found her bike alright, burnt to a blackened crisp.

If the anxieties and worries of a horrible maiden day of training and his pokemon in critical care wasn't enough, Misty stampeded through the sliding doors of the pokecenter carrying her charred bicycle above her head. She was furious, accusing the boy of being neglectful and selfish; which were true. Before Misty could provoke a heated argument with the boy, she calmed herself as Pikachu exited the critical care room. The atmosphere shifted from anger to subdued resentment and finally to concern for the small pokemon.

The environment would not settle still when Team Rocket notoriously announced their presences to the bewildered residence of the pokemon center declaring their intentions to steal all the pokemon. Misty took the initiative to defend the wounded Pikachu only to fail miserably, choosing a Goldeen to battle when they were nowhere near a body of water. At least Ash wasn't the only trainer who didn't know what he was doing.

It was noticeable to Ash it was sparks that defeated Team Rocket. It was Pikachu who stopped the ridiculous trio discharging an electric attack so powerful it leveled the pokecenter and sent the three rockets off into space. Ash checked again; there was indeed sparks, Pikachu, Nurse Joy, and Misty but nothing else.

---

Misty: the stubborn, annoying, hotheaded water pokemon trainer. From that day on Misty tagged along with Ash in his travels usually in the role to annoy him about his debt. She was very critical of Ash, often pointing out his ignorance and faults in his pokemon training. Ash and Misty would fight all the time. In the words of Brock trying to stop the two from fighting is like 'trying to stop the tide.' They usually bickered about something mundane or insignificant, but with the amount of energy and emotions both spent into this daily routine some would think it would be for a valid reason. But it wasn't, just two perfectly stubborn children.

But Ash could not shake this girl despite her harrowing annoyance. Misty had outstanding qualities time eventually unearthed from her hotheaded exterior, only to be contrasted with the exact opposing attribute. She showed the boys only flashes of pleasantness under her repeatedly aggressive nature. Such expressions were random and unplanned often arriving in the most bizarre moments. Like the sun peaking its face out briefly to warm the earth on a cloudy sky only to be covered again, Misty would follow up her rare behavior with a violent hammer to the head or a paper fan to the face. This was only natural to Ash and Brock, often taking a welt on the head or a bruise on the shoulder to be gestures of affection. Such a radical relationship of anger and kindness intrigued Ash Ketchum keeping him from ever hating Misty, but rather kept her in an odd but special place in his heart.

Eventually the two worked out their differences silently, remembering the catalysts for past arguments to stabilize their friendship. Indeed it was only time and circumstance until Ash fell for Misty; and that moment came on the night of a festival. Ash had been tired from the day's activities, sipping from his bowl talking with his electric pokemon. Then she appeared. She glowed in her new garments. A perfect combination of pinks and reds blended perfectly into her kimono. She usually held her hair up and to the side in a usual sloppy tom-boyish type style but this was not the case tonight. Her hair was neatly combed, dispersed perfectly along her forehead. Her fire colored hair fell to her shoulders harmonizing completely with her wardrobe. It was in this moment Ash was struck with the full force of Misty's beauty, and he was not remotely ready for it. He was speechless, wondering why he failed to recognize how beautiful she looked before. She smiled, took his hand and they danced long into the night. It was then Ash was frantically searching for the sparks. This indeed felt like the perfect moment, caught up in a feeling far abandoned when he was a child. He looked everywhere trying to catch a glimpse of them only to be disappointed. From that moment, Ash knew he loved Misty.

In the four year span Ash, Misty and Brock spent traveling together Ash would continue to see sparks on a daily basis. In each of those times he was left disappointed and frustrated, for the sparks never led to a hug, a kiss or more importantly with Misty. From every electric attack Pikachu would discharge in battle, the constant blasting off of the relentless Team Rock to the static sparks by a joyful Pikachu eating his specially made lunch; Ash recognized them all. Four years. Forty-eight months. Two hundred and eight weeks. One thousand four hundred and sixty days. They indeed became redundant.

It was in those four years Ash reminded himself of his mother's words: "Do not compensate, my love." Ash had to eventually agree to the idea that Misty wasn't his true love. The love of his life was supposed to be marked by a brilliant sign of sparks, and sparks did indeed occupy his life; but they failed to identify anybody, especially Misty. As much as Ash loved her, he was still bound by the words of his mother, etched deeply within his heart. He wanted the girl of his dreams and apparently Misty was not the girl. What if he were to pursue a relationship with Misty, only to miss out on the true love of his life; the girl he was meant to be with. Such thoughts discouraged Ash from ever revealing his feelings for Misty.

At the end of the Ash's journey through Johto Misty left the group to defend her gym. They had a meaningful exchange, expressing their friendship and affection for each other before saying goodbye. Just like that she was out of Ash's life.

Ash then met a new girl in his life: May. She couldn't have been the more of the exact opposite of Misty. The first encounter of the two almost perfectly resembled Ash and Misty's meeting, with a burnt bike to prove it. But May stuck with Ash for another reason than the debt of her bike; much to Ash's surprise who was shaken at the thought of two bike payments to two different girls.

May was a young joyous girl, pretty and kind. She was not without her flaws as a teenage girl does, often bickering with her younger brother Max. She did however show ambition, warmth and thoughtfulness far beyond her years. She was an inexperienced trainer, often asking Ash and Brock about pokemon this or pokemon that. Usually Ash did not have the answer, but did enjoy the student/teacher relationship he shared with May, although the two roles would hilariously switch on occasion.

Ash liked May; she was as sweet as a dewdrop and just as refreshing. But if any thoughts of pursuing a relationship with her ever sprouted, they were silenced with the sparks still failing to complete significant identification.

But this was not the only reason. There was not a day went by Ash was not reminded of Misty. It was not as if Ash was trying to forget Misty, but through his new journeys everything reminded him of her. For some reason everyone started to oddly describe everything blue as 'cerulean,' her town to where she went. Every time Ash and company would pass by a sparkling body of water, get caught in a rainy thunderstorm or relax by the beach Ash would be reminded of Misty. Ash would think of Misty every time they saw a water pokemon; often thinking 'Misty would want to catch that pokemon,' or 'Misty loves water pokemon.'

The two did see each other again. Misty came back to the group at times; one occasion to release Togepi, and another just as Ash was beginning to travel the Kanto Battle Frontier. She had a new stunning wardrobe, a sweeter smile and a baby Maril in her arms but for the most part she was exactly the same. Ash wouldn't want her any other way. It was Misty that Ash held onto.

---

At the end of the Kanto Frontier the group decided to disband for a while. May and Max went to see their parents in Petalburg, Brock missed his younger siblings and departed for Pewter and Ash felt homesick.

But before he made it home Ash made a detour to Cerulean City from Pallet. He walked cautiously into the Cerulean Gym; the lobby was filled with eager pokemon trainers. A skinny golden haired receptionist with a clipboard walked up to him.

"Hello. I'm afraid we're overbooked. The Gym Leader can't see you today," she told him.

Ash shook his head, "No no, I'm not here to battle I'm here to see the Gym Leader," he tried to explain.

"Pika-Pika" Pikachu added sitting comfortably on Ash's hat.

The receptionist shook her head disappointingly after checking the pages on her clipboard. She tapped her pen on the pages.

"I'm sorry but the Gym Leader has a full schedule and cannot take guests at this time. Try coming back tomorrow," she suggested.

"But she's my friend," Ash protested.

"You? Yeah right," She condescendingly looked Ash up and down and laughed to herself.

Ash sighed in annoyance. All he wanted to do was to say 'hello,' and maybe have a quick meal with her. Maybe just the 'hello.'

"Well, is it okay if I just wait in the lobby till she's done?" he asked.

She nodded.

Ash took his place on a crowded couch, sharing it with six people on a sofa only meant for four. He squeezed in between a larger man in khakis boisterously bragging about his pokemon, and a small dorky trainer asking Ash obvious pokemon related questions.

This went on for hours. Ash watched as the crowds thinned; one by one every trainer left with a cascade badge. He finally was the last one in the lobby after the receptionist called in the last trainer. Ash stretched, and loved his new accumulated space. A few minutes passed and the last trainer exited the doors pinning a newly won cascade badge to his jacket. Ash jumped to his feet, fixed his hair and started to walk to the doors.

"Hold it!" the receptionist yelled.

Ash ignored her, and attempted to enter. The door was locked. Ash jiggled the locked doorknob while attempting to enter colliding face first against the doors. He slid down, with a massive red mark across his face. The receptionist didn't even bother to help him.

"I'm sorry but the gym is closing now, we can't take anymore visitors," she told him.

Ash groaned uncomfortably. He rubbed his face, half annoyed and half hurt. He sighed and picked himself up off the floor.

"You gotta be kidding me," he said annoyingly. "I waited hours just to see the Gym Leader, and now you're saying I can't even do that?"

The receptionist grew impatient. "I'm sorry young man, but rules are rules. You're just going to have to wait till tomorrow like everyone else. Then maybe we can squeeze you in."

"Yeah right," he sarcastically replied. "You already squeezed me in between the obnoxious and insecure trainer for two hours. No thanks," he said while furiously storming out the gym doors with Pikachu trailing behind him.

Ash raged through the streets. He finally stopped at a small stand buying an overpriced bag of ice to remedy the swelling in his face. He pressed the bag against his puffy eye, wincing to the piercing cold. He walked out of the city limits along the path heading for Pallet. He groaned in frustration, angrily throwing the bag away when the ice had melted. He closed his swollen eye, stumbling through the track.

"God, that sucked so much!" he said to Pikachu. "All I wanted was to see Misty and that stupid receptionist was like, '_I'm sorry young man, but we can't see right now even though we had you waiting for a billion years!_'" he said in a mock voice.

"Pika, Pika-Pikachu" his pokemon agreed with him.

"It made me so mad; it would have taken two measly min-Whoa!" Ash's foot stepped in a noose lying on the ground. It tightened around his ankle and pulled him up. The bewildered boy fell flat on his face then was lifted up stringing him five feet off the ground hanging in mid air. He yelled in frustration.

"What the--Pikachu try to find a way to get me down!" Pikachu nodded and climbed the trunk of the tree, searching for the rope to cut him down.

"You look absolutely ridiculous, Ash Ketchum."

"Huh?" Ash looked to see an upside down Misty in front of him. She smiled at him dangling humorously in front of her. Ash blushed.

"Misty!"

She sighed, picking up his hat off the floor. She tilted her head at Ash.

"So, Mr. Ketchum, what are you doing here?"

"Does it really matter? Just get me down!" he demanded.

Misty laughed, "That's just like you Ash. Always getting into trouble and I have to be the one to bail you out." Misty released her Staryu and commanded it to cut the rope using its sharp limbs.

"No, no, wait! Wait a--!" Ash pleaded.

Too late. Staryu cut the rope sending Ash plummeting to the ground in mid sentence. He brushed the dirt off his clothes, and tried to maintain his balanced. He held his aching head.

Misty laughed again, much to Ash's annoyance. She winked at him, and somehow his pain had vanished in a single second.

"Seriously Ash, what are you doing here?" she asked through her giggles.

He took a second to compose himself before answering. "I uh—went to visit you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I wanted to say 'hi,' but you couldn't see anybody. They had me wait for you forever," he told her.

Misty blushed, pitching Ash's cheek. He playfully knocked her hand away.

"Ahhh, poor Ash," she teased.

"Hey, don't feel too bad for me, Mrs. '_I can't defend my gym, every trainer that walks through the door gets a badge_.'"

Misty glared at him. "Well, for your information Mr. Ketchum I'm no longer the Gym Leader anymore!"

Ash tilted his head. "What? Why?"

Misty sighed, kicking up a small cloud of dust in the air out of frustration. "They took it back. After they went on a few trips doing their own thing, my sisters came back and wanted to run the gym again; just like that. They said I '_wasn't good enough_' or something like that I don't know. So I left."

"I'm sorry, Misty."

Misty left herself in a few seconds of contemplation. She brushed it off.

"It's okay, I expect that from them," she said with a quick shrug of her shoulders.

Ash touched her hand, and gave her a small hug. Misty felt overtaken at first; an act of affection from Ash Ketchum seemed displaced. She eventually reciprocated and hugged him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I really am sorry. You deserve better than that."

Misty smirked. "Careful Ash," she teased. "You might be caring about something other than pokemon training."

They both laughed.

"Well, I'm going back to Pallet, I'm spending a few days with my Mom until can find out what to do next. Do you want to come with me?"

"Me? Really?"

"Yeah sure. Wouldn't be traveling if I didn't have you to bother me."

She giggled. "What makes you think I don't have anywhere better to go?" Misty asked.

"I don't. But I would like you to come. So, you wanna go?"

She nodded. Ash was about to turn when she stopped him.

"Ash?"

"Yes?"

Without warning, she rushed up to him and hugged him. This time Ash was surprised. He closed his eyes, feeling how warm she made him feel. He softly hugged her back. They stayed together for a few moments before they broke.

"What was that for?" he nervously asked.

She shook her head. "It's just--I wasn't really sure where I was going to go. Thank you."

"It's no problem," Ash said. "I like having you around."

"Yeah?" Misty blushed and looked down

"Yeah, in fact I always want you in my life, Misty."

Misty smiled; Ash smiled. With a throbbing headache, a giant puffy red eye, dirty clothes and an awful day Ash slowly leaned over and softly kissed her. It was unexpected, uneven, short and _perfect_. The two stayed together a brief moment before releasing just enough to look into each other's eyes.

He saw sparks. She saw sparks. They saw sparks.

end

---

**sparks**

_did I drive you away?  
I know what you'll say,  
you say, "Oh, sing one we know,"  
but I promise you this,  
i'll always look out for you,  
that's what I'll do._

_i say "oh," I say "oh."_

_my heart is yours,  
it's you that I hold on to,  
that's what I do,  
and I know I was wrong,  
but I won't let you down,_

_i say "oh," I cry "oh." _

yeah I saw sparks,  
yeah I saw sparks,  
and I saw sparks,  
yeah I saw sparks,  
sing it out.

la, la, la, la, oh…  
la, la, la, la, oh…  
la, la, la, la, oh…

---

"…but I promise you this; I'll always look out for you" - sparks


End file.
